Taking a Step in a Postmodern Direction

March 12, 2007 at 9:20 pm (churchy stuff)

My pastor friend Bruce is a self-proclaimed earlier adopter. He claims to have been at the forefront of every fad that crossceltic.jpgcame along in the ’80’s. A new tech gadget on the horizon? Ask Bruce, he’s tested it. Celtic cross ankle tattoo? Yeah, Bruce had his first. (But mine’s cooler, even if it is freakin’ huge, compared to his!)

Leave it to Bruce to be on the cutting edge of where the mainline church is emerging. The church he serves in San Francisco, has been testing the waters of postmodernity for several years now. Bruce has been patient in leading some of his generational peers into testing the postmodern waters; a place where a faith-filled few of my colleagues have already plunged.

Recently, Bruce wrote an article for one of our denomination’s journals: The Presbyterian Outlook. For the rest of this post to make sense, you need to click on the Outlook link and read his article, because what follows is my reflection (in process) to it.

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Okay, so you read it? Skimmed it? Glanced at it? Good deal– here are my thoughts:

I found Bruce’s article in The Outlook incredibly helpful. For one, he has crystallized the “Postmodern” church—as much as something postmodern can be fixed—succinctly. Secondly, he has pushed me with the challenge of how to out myself as a postmodern.

I am serving an established congregation of folks who understand what the gospel is about; I believe Bruce summed it up with the simple phrase, “Jesus loves us.” This understanding, of course, transcends cultural shifts. And yet, while we have moments of postmodernity that creep into our worship, we are still mostly modern in how we shape our worship.

I recall when going before the presbytery to make the move from Inquirer to Candidate (towards becoming an ordained clergyperson), one of the questions I was to answer had something to do with my understanding of the foundation of Christian faith. To me there was a simple answer to that question: Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. Likewise, love your neighbor as yourself.” After briefly expounding upon this text, I eventually got the nod to move forward in my process. This core teaching of Jesus’ remains the core of my theological understanding. I keep looking for more theologically deep explanations for faith, but I continue to land right back there.

That’s why I’m so happy to be serving with the congregation of Noble Road. They understand that this is the meaning and purpose of the gospel: know the hold grace has on your life and respond in kind in the world. What I’ve discovered about these folks, though, is that many of them have put the proverbial cart before the horse. Many of the folks relish doing the work of the gospel without necessarily embracing the gospel. Or, maybe another way of stating that is that they are much more ready to serve their neighbor than to make affirmations of faith. The various articles of faith about God, Christ, and Spirit, which have been handed down to us in the Confessions do not resonate with them. And the more I intersect with them in their lives and in our lives together in
the community, the less convinced I am that parsing faith/theology past the great commandment really matters to folks.

Being church—especially the church at worship—is so much about speaking and saying words prepared by someone else; so much about about singing familiar, if not sentimental, songs to antiquated music; and, so often, a relatively rote exercise. (Obviously, this is not the case in point all the time, nor is it true that these forms of worship are always dry.)

I’ve recently rediscovered the importance of the assembled
congregational body. Early, early on a Sunday morning towards the end of February, a storm system came through the area that left a coating of ice on everything. I received a call from one of our elders stating that she would not be able to get to church and had called other folks to caution them not to try to get out because it was simply too slippery and dangerous. After speaking with her I called around and eventually made the really difficult decision to cancel worship. So, on the spot we created and initiated a call-off-worship- because-of-ice phone tree. It was a weird call to make. And all day that Sunday I felt off-kilter.

A week and a half later, at a Bible study, the folks there each shared how off-putting not being in worship was for them; for the day and for the week. I shared that story with others and they had the same reaction.

Worship matters! As one of the bible study folks said recalling a conversation with a former pastor:

This pastor once said, ‘Sunday mornings are not about recharging your batteries, it’s about praising God.’ And I had to tell him, I’m sorry—and I understand what you are saying—but while I come to worship God, it is about recharging my batteries and getting my whole self in proper perspective for the week to come.” She followed that up by saying, “For me, Sunday is not the last day of the weekend, it is definitely the first day of the week. It sets the week for me.

This is a lot of narrative to swing back to Bruce’s point about being a Postmodern. His challenge for me is to take the bold steps so many of my sister and brother pastors have already done to change and experiment with this ever-important day/event (worship), to make it relevant and authentic and worshipful and energizing, for and within contemporary
culture. The life of the church that accompanies our worship is already taking steps to be more friendly to the lives of folks {their lives outside the church, of course, having already co-joined with Postmodernity}.

I still haven’t yet figured out how to integrate the call to emerge into what the Spirit is leading us, but I am hearing and understanding the call to experiment, so that we may widen the ways we meet God on the journey. And I think this is partially what defines me as Postmodern.

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A Punch in the Stomach

March 12, 2007 at 3:47 pm (justice, noble?, reporting)

A couple days ago, we celebrated the 3rd birthday of the son of one of our favorite couples. One of the boy’s passions is Thomas the Tank Engine. While there wasn’t thomas.jpg necessarily a heavy thematic element to the party, it was clear that things having to do with trains would be the focus. The cake was a homemade, brightly-colored succession of train cars. Wooden train tracks were dumped on the floor for children (and a few adults) to build and play.

One of the guests even dressed the part: in overalls and an engineer’s cap. At one point in our conversation, the engineer-dressed friend, who grew up in Germany, informed us that the translation for train engineer in German is: Lokomotive Führer. “Führer, huh?” I asked casually. “Yes,” she responded, “it means ‘leader’.” Reflexively, I half-heartedly raised my hand and said, “Heil.”

Before I even had a chance to chuckle at my wit, or lower my hand, my friend gave me a purposeful punch in the gut. All I could manage was an “Oooo” as I realized what she’d done. Nothing more was said, just a look at one another, we were square. It didn’t take long to settle into my consciousness just what I had done trying to be funny.

This was yet another reminder of how you can go through this life thinking you are becoming enlightened, and sensitive to cultures other than your own. And in one moment you wind up with not only your foot in your mouth, but an appropriately placed fist in the stomach.

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Now, these are some Sisters!

March 12, 2007 at 3:13 pm (silliness)

I received this email a bit ago and thought it worth sharing:

Sisters Mary Catherine, Maria Theresa, Katherine Marie, Rose Frances, & Mary Kathleen left the Convent on a trip
to St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City and were sight-seeing on a Tuesday in July. It was hot and humid in town and their traditional garb was making them so uncomfortable, they decided to stop in at Patty McGuire’s Pub for a cold soft drink.

Patty had recently added special legs to his barstools, which were the talk of the fashionable eastside neighborhood. All 5 Nuns sat up at the bar and were enjoying their Cokes when Monsignor Riley and Father McGinty entered the bar through the front door.

They, too, came for a cold drink when they were shocked and almost fainted at what they saw.


nunsbarstools.jpg

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Ten Year Old and IMing, Part II

March 7, 2007 at 9:37 am (parenting, reporting)

So, we decided to go ahead and allow our son to IM.

It’s amazing how much some of his peers already know about the world of textspeak. You know: lol, r u there, lots of goofy shorthand stuff. And they are quick to help Adrian catch up to it.

They are all using AIM which comes with lots of bells and whistles if you know how to navigate through the menus. So, many of them have football team wallpaper or have configured the sound it makes whenever a message is posted to make a particular noise (so far, just a quarterback’s “hut one”).

However, one of the functions that is making us leery is the ability to link to anything on the web and particularly to Youtube. The most common links right now are hybrid music videos: like this one which puts together images from Star Wars to the song “I Like to Move It” from the kids film Madagascar:

Innocent enough, right? Using technology to splice together film clips and set them to music. Kind of fun. Obviously, though, alot of what’s silly or fun for adults is not appropriate for children.

Part of the deal we made with our son is that his IM account is open to our viewing at any time. And while Mrs. Nopas was looking through some of his buddies’ profiles she found a few links to videos that crossed the line. She also found some other kids’ posts making derogatory comments.

Are we prudes? Are we overprotecting our first-born? Will we be more lax with children 2 and 3, when their time comes? (Only time will tell on this one.) Are we setting important boundaries?

We’re not going to shelter our kids. But we are going to let them know what’s appropriate and what’s not, and teach them an ethical framework by which to measure what comes their way.

So, we’ll start by going through some of the links and messages on our son’s IM account with him and talk through it.

Surely he’ll go to school the next day and brag to his friends just how cool his parents are. Right?!?

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Viewing a Ten Year-Old

March 2, 2007 at 3:23 am (parenting)

When I took my 10 year-old son to his piano lesson tonight, he said a quick goodbye and went into the house of his teacher. I stood outside with our dogs, waiting for our 7 year-old daughter to finish up so we could walk home together.

As I peered in through the translucent security window by the door, I could see him sitting on the steps, on-deck, but his face and shape were a bit hazy. For a first-time parent of a boy his age, this is how I feel about my fathering skills: I kind of know what I’m supposed to do, but it’s not all together clear.

Up to this point, parenting has been pretty intuitive. But now, admittedly, I’m guessing much of the time. He’s old enough to “get” stuff, he’s intelligent, and yet, at times, he’s as bone-headed as they come. What used to be a 98% jovial kid, I now find in occasional, mysteriously pissy moods.

We come to find out that one of the latest episodes is because ALL of his friends are IMing and he’s out of the loop. Apparently, they get to school and talk about their screen names and the conversations they’ve supposedly had, and he’s just lost–feeling deprived. (Of course, this is the first we’ve heard about this, but in his mind, he’s gone over it a thousand times, and somehow, I guess, we should have figured it out.)

So, cool parents have navigated their kids way into AIM, or other such forums? Or, you’re going to tell me, they’ve taught each other. Just like they are doing all those other things that parents who try to be a part of their kid’s life fear are happening beyond their vision. Not that I’m too afraid of 10-year-old IMs…I don’t think?!?

Mrs. Nopas (I stole this titling format from my friend LadyBurg) has taken the bold steps of talking about drug use (esp. inhalants), with this one and his sister. They seemed to understand the weight of making poor judgment calls….

But, dude, the boy’s only ten!

….It’s just a strange and fuzzy time to be a father.

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Praying Companions and An Interruption

March 2, 2007 at 12:00 am (churchy stuff, reporting, weird)

Imagine a child on her knees preparing for bed: hands folded, eyes closed; you know the “now I lay me down to sleep” scene.

Now imagine her companion, a chocolate lab, waiting patiently to go to sleep–on the floor? on the bed? No, the dog is not at the child’s feet. The dog is next to her, paws on the bed, eyes closed, in the same position of the child.

I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t a picture of it myself! Apparently it was a first time occurrence and unposed. I asked my friend who showed it to me if I could have a copy of the photo to post here. She said the child’s parents didn’t want the picture publicized.

So, for now it will have to be in held in your imagination.

Little did I know, that’s how my day would be spent, side by side with companions in prayer.labyrinth

Part 1 of the day was predictable. I had gone to my friend’s church to walk a labyrinth with a group of spiritual friends. This discipline never fails to calm and center me, and to push away the clutter for just a little while.

Part 2 was less predictable. A merchant in the neighborhood of the church had called to schedule an appointment with me. I went to his business at the time we had set. He proceeded to confide in me about some issues with which he was dealing and to see if I had some ideas for possible solutions to work through his troubles. Even before I had the chance to offer it, he said, “And you’ll pray with me before you leave, right?” The Holy Spirit is good: all the time.

Not five minutes after arriving back at the church, I received a phone call from one of the church members who needed to have an important, but difficult, conversation with a friend, hoping it would bring them closer together and not push them apart. “And I really need for you to pray for me over the weekend when I’ll most likely be having this conversation,” he said.

A half hour later, I opened up an email from one of a network of revered pastor friends, who got specific on us: Just lift up my name on Tuesday, March 6 at 10:30 a.m. CST.

Prayerus interruptus…
Then came the huge, unexpected surprise of the day: someone had been using the laptop in my office to get his porn on. After 2 days of suspicion that things weren’t quite as I’d left them with my computer, I checked the web browser history. I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled down sites I didn’t even want to know existed. “Great :( ….” I shouted aloud. After getting over the shock that my computer had been violated, I finally did what I needed to make sure the Hacker Whacker was going to have to find a new place to play.

The day ended with a meeting of the Leadership Development Team of our presbytery. We had a terrific conversation about emergent churches and a new church in that mode that is forming in our presbyarea. Our conversation included alot more, but it ended with the normal question: who’s going to pray us away from here? {insert chirping crickets}….

…it was a praying kind of day for me so I stepped up. Except I threw ‘em a curve ball. “How about I start and the rest of you add a word our phrase that sums up how you are feeling as we prepare to leave…” My companions hit my curve ball out of the park:

energized…appreciative of true fellowship…hopeful…like we have lots to offer…thankful.

Now I lay me down to sleep, grateful for the two-legged, four-legged, and wholly spirited companions who keep company with me and make my life the more richer and prayer-full.

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